Peggy.

To get to my Grandma’s grave, make a left after the weeping angel.

At least, that’s how I think you get there. It’s a very large cemetery and I’ve only been once, that I can remember.

My mom went to see her today, and I stayed back. I don’t know if I feel guilty about this. Should I feel guilty about this? I never met her. She died years and years before I was born. I enjoy hearing stories about her; she seemed like she was a pretty neat lady. But to go visit her grave seems strange to me. Maybe I’d prefer to remember her as she is in my imagination, not reduced to an inscription in concrete; I don’t know.

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